


Tender

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Established Relationship, F/F, Female Bard, Female Thranduil, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 10:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4518531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil enjoys Bard’s more curvaceous frame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tender

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “F!Thranduil likes that F!Bard has bigger boobs” prompt on [the Hobbit Kink Meme](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/14338.html?thread=26204162#t26204162).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Her crown rests beside her elbow as she finishes brushing her white-gold locks, the curtain falling smoothly down her shoulders. She can feel her lover’s eyes in the mirror when she sets the brush down. For a moment, Thranduil examines herself, old beyond that lover’s reckoning, yet still fair and beautiful. She’s always pleased when she turns towards her bed and finds lust in Bard’s eyes. 

While Thranduil’s thin, silken nightgown swishes about her bare feet, Bard lies in nothing, already nestled beneath the sheets. She lounges with her hands behind her head, waiting. She’s dark where Thranduil’s pale, her hair a matted mess she doesn’t bother to brush even for her queen. Thranduil’s brushed it at times. Stray stubble lines Bard’s chin that perhaps Thranduil will cut away, although the coarse scratch can be delightful in certain places. When Thranduil perches on the edge of the bed, Bard’s hungry eyes rake her lithe form. 

For a moment, they’re quiet. There have been times, especially those where Bard has just come from a long ride and hard crossing, that they merely lie with another, enjoying the company and warmth. But most, their vitality seeps through, and they rumple whichever bed they share as though determined to expand their family. Tonight, Thranduil drops her hand to Bard’s collar and dusts across one broad shoulder, tracing soft flesh over bone. 

Before she can trail lower, Bard captures that hand in her own. She lifts it to her mouth, kissing the back. Thranduil distracts her, leaning down for a thicker kiss: lips on lips and a hint of tongue. It frees Thranduil’s hand to slither beneath the blankets, tracing to cup one ample breast and _squeeze_ , hard enough to make Bard gasp into her mouth. 

Though Thranduil’s chest isn’t particularly flat for an elf, her human lover boasts far large curves. The first time Thranduil shed Bard’s ragged clothes, those breasts seemed enormous, more than Thranduil could fit in her long fingers, heavy and soft and not quite as firm as Thranduil’s own, with big, brown nipples less sensitive to touch. They’re nonetheless fun to play with. Thranduil’s own chest is very sensitive, as Bard is so fond of exploiting, and so Thranduil works hard to elicit a similar response. When she toys with her lover’s breasts, she does so almost mercilessly. It’s a delight to finally bed a woman who can take it, who’s built with muscle instead of thin and feather-light sinew. Thranduil can knead Bard’s chest as much as she likes, squeeze and grind and pinch, and Bard will groan here and there but only ever lean into it, always hungry for _more_. 

When their mouths part for breath, Bard murmurs, husky, “Are you going to come into bed, or just sit there and play with my tits?”

In a vague explanation, Thranduil sighs, “You do not spend enough time in my kingdom.” She continues her ministrations, both hands now on their prizes, rubbing Bard in slow, lazy circles, whilst palming her nipples into hardness. Thranduil runs her tongue along Bard’s bottom lip, but can see from her smirk that she’s about to speak.

“You were the one that insisted I accept mastership of Dale,” Bard notes, even as Thranduil’s teeth graze her chiseled jaw, through her scraggly hair and along the rounded shell of her ear. “Besides, I have children.”

So does Thranduil. But she never lets her son disrupt her pleasure. In fact, she purposely keeps them apart when she can, because Legolas has shown a marked interest in other races, and Bard is too handsome for any to resist. Bard and Legolas would be closer in age, perhaps, but not in experience. 

Ignoring Bard’s excuses, Thranduil lifts the sheet high enough to slip inside. She retains her nightgown, even though Bard sleeps nude, partially because she enjoys the contrast and partially because she enjoys the way Bard tends to rip it off her. She only stays on the mattress for a moment before she rolls onto Bard, straddling Bard’s waist and resting her arms on either side, her chin ducking to bury between the full hills of Bard’s chest. Bard sucks in a breath, her breasts rising with it, and Thranduil tilts her tongue to drag between them. She kisses her way up one tall slope and laps at the pebbled bud that meets her, sucking it fondly into her mouth. 

While she suckles, Bard laughs, “If my Elven queen thinks these so large, she should see a dwarves’.” Thranduil wrinkles her nose in response, scowling around her mouthful. She has no desire to see the furred mounds of Dwarven flesh, which Bard fully knows. 

In a trail of kisses, Thranduil makes her way up to Bard’s mouth, kissing away the laughter. Then she wraps her arms around Bard’s shoulders and rolls them over, catching Bard off guard with her strength, as she so often does. She might be lean in comparison, but she’s _strong_ , and she bears Bard’s thicker body atop hers, enjoying the weight of Bard’s chest against her own. It labours her breath in a most delicious way. 

Bard only allows her to enjoy that for a moment, then slinks down her body to gather up her skirt, forcing Thranduil to toss her head back, _moan_ , and wonder why she herself doesn’t travel to Dale more often.


End file.
